Once Upon a Nightmare
by The Brat Prince
Summary: Bellatrix Black wasn't always bad. In fact, she used to be a close friend to Hogwart's most michievous pranksters. So how did she turn into the notorious death eater devotee of Voldemort? This is her tale.


**Once Upon a Nightmare**

_Chapter One: One of the Boys_

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Revised version of what I originally planned. They're wearing uniforms. I know they don't wear uniforms in the book, but creative license. Similarly, I'm taking creative control of the houses and the ages.

* * *

Ever since I was little, I always wanted to be one of the boys. My parents would force me into dresses and tell me to be a lady. At least that's what they had publicly agreed on. Secretly, Daddy would take me outside and try to teach me Quidditch. While Mum was inside, showing my sisters the proper way to sip tea, I would soar through the air. That was the only time in my life I felt free.

"Please, Bella? Pleeeeease?"

God, I hate my sisters. This one's got these big amber colored eyes that get all dewy at the slightest mention of animal cruelty.

"No."

I've lived with her too long. The dewy eyes don't even faze me.

"You've got to, Bella! Cissy already turned me down, and you're the only one I have to turn to."

"No. Don't you have any friends that can help you?"

"Belllllllllllla!! Why are you so mean?"

Her glossy chestnut hair's braided, with multi-colored beads clacking gently near her full breasts. She's got Mum's breasts. I envy her that.

"Family trait," I shrug.

She puts a hand on her hip and stomps her foot. How mature. She's wearing those old, worn out dragon skin knee highs that the maid always tries to throw out at home, and ripped white lace thigh highs. Probably stole them from the attic, where all of Gran's old clothes are stored. No one else would wear such ugly stockings, but Gran had a real soft spot for lace. Andromeda has a real soft spot for anything old and ugly. Like Gran, or Gran's clothes.

"Please?"

Oh, here come the real water works. Pathetic.

"Look, I refuse to help you. I hate the little buggers. They're slimy."

"But-"

"I'm not done yet, Rom. I know a kid who gets all teary eyed over bleeding knarls. I'm sure those disgusting things aren't too far off his cause. I'll ask him."

"Ooh, what's his name? Maybe I know him!"

Amazing. The tears vanished in an instant.

"Ted. Ted Tonks."

"That hunky muggle born Ravenclaw?" Andromeda squealed in delight. I hate her, "Oh, thank you Bellatrix!"

"Yeah yeah. It's not that big a deal," I roll my eyes and march away. My black tights are itchy. I wish I could take them off. But then Mum will drop by and see it, and the screaming fits will start. Mum and her stupid screaming fits. Only Andromeda has the guts to stand up to her. Stupid youngest child.

The halls of Hogwarts are cool, and I breathe in deeply. I can never breathe around my sisters. Luckily I don't see Andromeda as often as though we were home. She's a fifth year in Hufflepuff. Shame to the family, but at least it's not Gryffindor, like my stupid cousin Sirius. Cissy and I are in Slytherin, seventh and sixth years. If I had my way, I would have gone to Beauxbatons and been done with it. No house rivalry, no sisters, no goody-goody guys to plague my life with their toothy smiles and gorgeous eyes and glitter make up. Plus those cute little blue uniforms.

Ah, Beauxbatons. Mum was having nothing of it. I still remember her words, "But…dear, they're French!"

As if I hadn't noticed. It wasn't like I asked to go to America, or something quite so scandalous.

Daddy always says, speak of the devil, and he shows. I just had to think about the super goody-goody boys. This particular goody-goody boy has a cause. There he is, up ahead. Today's he's got these tight leather pants black kohl under his eyes. He never dresses like a girl, like some of the boys, but he's gone in for the glam rock phase just like a muggle-born. Odd thing being, he's not. That prissy bitch has him and my idiot cousin dressing up in glitter as if it's nothing. The leash she's got on them both is so short, and they don't even see it. Neither does she, I suspect.

"Bella-trix! What kind of tricks you have for me tod-ay?" he draws out every syllable with a wicked grin.

I take a deep breath, "Hello, James."

"Bellatrix," Sirius has a silly grin on his face, "My favorite cousin! What's up."

"Ugh, your breath stinks. Are you drunk?"

"No, 'course not," he winks.

"It's the middle of the bloody day! What about classes?"

"Chill, Bellatrix, I'm not drunk."

There's little Peter, hidden behind my cousin and him, wearing tight pants like the rest. He wants to fit in so badly. Gives me the creeps. He's too wiry, too thin, too small and mousy. Remus is the only one who's wearing jeans and a sweater. He's eyeing my dress. None of them ever wear the uniform. Uppity gits.

"Sure," I dismiss him with a look. He no longer lives at home, Sirius. He lives with James. My other cousin, Regulus, hates him for it. He's the same age as Andromeda. He and Sirus used to be so close.

"So, Bellatrix, check this out. Hogsmeade weekend coming up! It's going to be pretty wild. You up for it? You, me, Lily, Remus, Sirius, Peter, and that slut Alice."

"Alice is not a slut," Remus objected mildly, "She's just finicky about staying in relationships."

"Sounds like you've got a crush," I remarked good humouredly.

"Of course not. Remus doesn't like girls," Sirius slung an arm around Remus's shoulders, "He likes me."

"You think everyone likes you," was Remus's light reply.

That was definitely true. My cousin has the amazing Black family ability to genuinely believe the world revolves around him, and him alone. I suffer from that ailment occasionally, and it's congenital in my sisters.

"By the way, have you seen Ted?" I can't direct the question directly at James.

He doesn't even look my way as he replies, "Oh yeah, he was in the common room. Lily!"

As always, his face brightens at the sight of pretty little Lily Evans. She's barely five foot two, but she can hold a room in thrall with her lovely, lyrical voice. Her eyes are piercing green. She has this gorgeous red hair…I tried dying my hair the same color once. Even with magic, I couldn't imitate it. I'd look horrible as a redhead anyway. I'm too pale, and not the good, Irish kind of pale.

"Hi James," Lily says coolly. The boy is crazy about her, but sadly, she doesn't even notice. Or care. For some reason way beyond me, Lily Evans has the worst crush in the entire world on none other than Peter Pettigrew.

If it was Remus, I'd understand. Heck, if it was my stupid, stupid cousin, I'd understand.

Yet it's Peter. One of the most popular, beautiful girls in the entire school likes scrawny, not all that attractive little Peter Pettigrew. Why? She has James all over her. I can't understand it.

Peter peeks out from behind my cousin, "Lily! Hi!"

"Hi Peter," she replies animatedly, then looks at me and says calmly, "Hi Bella."

Her voice is sweet, but her eyes are narrowed and filled with ice. Lily doesn't really know what to make of me. If I was just some Slytherin in passing, she'd probably stick with sweet and skip the venom. However, I'm the only Slytherin in James' group of friends. Honestly, I never thought I'd be friends with James Potter, or my stupid cousin, or any of them. It's only because I got stuck as his lab partner all last year that he refused to leave me alone outside the stupid class. I guess he took a liking to me. Or maybe that's what I hope. Before that I used to spend all my time with Rodolphus Lestrange and the rest of the smarmy gits Slytherin house tries to pass off as boys. They were entertaining, at least.

"Eh, hi Lily," I shift from one foot to the other, suppressing my preschool mentality to make a snotty comment to her. I don't know what her problem is with Slytherins anyway. I've definitely seen her cozying up to slimy Severus, the one Slytherin that even I can't stand. He's obsessed with embracing the darkness and all that morbid funeral chat that my generation seems to find so refreshing. Yeah, no thanks. If I wanted to talk about how desperately I'd like to watch my flesh burn over a funeral pyre incessantly I'd go home and talk to Auntie Alaia. Sirius's mum is a bit off her rocker, and sometimes I feel all to sorry for him and my little cousin Regulus. If they knew I pitied them they'd think up some immature prank to pull on me. No one pities a Black.

Lily narrows her eyes, which have to be the most brilliant green I've ever seen. I envy her that. I envy her a lot of things.

The redhead turns back to James, flirting and leading him on until he becomes so tongue tied that he's barely creating coherent sentences. Sirius has pulled Remus into a confidential huddle, and I don't even try to intrude. I can tell when I'm not wanted. They're probably plotting to put flobberworms in Snape's bed or the what not. Poor Peter stands off to the side, crossing his arms and obviously proud to be part of the group. He doesn't realize his friends are completely ignoring him, as no friends should. Don't get me wrong, the guys are great, but they're still boys.

Loudly enough to be heard I announced, "Whelp, I'm off to hex Ted Tonks into helping my baby sister out."

No one acknowledges me. Oddly enough, I'm completely okay with that.


End file.
